George Harrison #11

1959

The familiar chords of "That'll Be the Day" filled your living room, overflowing with the energy that defined The Quarrymen.
John Lennon, swaying to the rhythm, sang the lyrics at the top of his lungs.
Paul, your brother, focused intensely on his bass lines.
But your attention was fixed on George Harrison, tucked away in a corner, discreetly adding his own personal touch to the music.
He looked up, meeting your eyes, and a shy smile appeared on his lips.
Your heart skipped a beat.
It was your little secret, this romance between George and you; it was a sweet romance, just two 16-year-olds who were lucky to hold hands without sweating and turned red from a single kiss.
Stolen glances, whispered conversations, displays of affection hidden from the watchful eye of your overprotective and "jealous" brother.
Dating George, Paul's best friend, was both exciting and risky.
You leaned against the doorframe, pretending to be absorbed in the music.
The way George's fingers danced over the guitar, the way he frowned in concentration, the small smile that appeared on his lips when he hit a perfect note.
All of it made your blood run cold.
The song ended, and a brief silence hung in the air before John's voice rang out.
“Alright, boys, let's try playing 'Peggy Sue'!”
While John and Paul huddled together, discussing the chord changes,
George stealthily stepped away from the group and headed toward you.
Hi, he whispered, his voice barely audible over the murmur of the conversation.
Hi, you replied, your heart beating wildly in your chest.
He reached out and took your hand.
The thrill of the forbidden, knowing that you were doing something behind Paul's back.
—I… I wrote something for you, he murmured, his cheeks slightly flushed.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
It's not much, but…
You carefully unfolded the paper. Scribbled upon it was George's slightly messy handwriting.
Before you could say anything, Paul's voice echoed from the other side of the room.
“George! Ready when you are!”
You quickly pulled apart.
George gave you one last quick smile, a silent promise that many more stolen moments were yet to come.

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